Bellarke One-Shots
by littleSpud
Summary: Essentially just a series of Bellarke one-shots, either original, inspired by Tumblr prompts, or through comments and reviews. Though the focus is on Bellarke, I'm open to other pairings as well. The rating will vary based off of one-shot, so the story rating will officially be M just to be on the safe side. Content may contain smut, swearing, and adult themes.


**Hey guys, so I know I have quite a few stories going on right now, however, due to school being in session those have taken a while to update. So, for a temporary fix, I'm looking to do a series of one-shots because they're easier to do.**

 **This first one is based off a Tumblr prompt about Bellamy hurting Clarke and then in true Bellamy-fashion, condemning himself as a monster for it. Read it and let me know what you think.**

 **Enjoy,**

 **S**

* * *

The sun was barely rising above the treetops as he paced in front of the gate, anxious to begin the day. After a discussion with Clarke, they had decided to begin training everyone in combat to some extent; hopefully enough they could escape a brutish grounder, though he knew that was a bit idealistic.

As he paced, he remembered how the discussion went, _"Princess, we need to do something to teach these kids to defend themselves. One of my men can't always be holding their hands."_

 _She glared up at him through her eyelashes as she examined some poor kid's bloodied leg, "Well isn't that your job," she questioned._

" _Well, no….yes? Look, we have too much shit to do between holding the gates, building, and hunting, we are already spread thin. And it's getting ridiculous that whenever someone feels the urge to go 'clean' themselves or whatever, one of my men must stop what they're doing. It's a waste of time and men and effort and…"_

 _She stood up straight looking me in the eyes; I could tell she thought of this too, because she wasn't immediately throwing back insults or comments._

" _So what do you want to do, Bellamy? Give them all guns and have them do 'whatever the hell they want?"_

 _It was impossible to miss the jab, but he let it go, rolling his eyes instead, "Obviously not, Princess," he replied with a smirk, then with a more serious expression "I was thinking maybe teach basic skills for hand-to-hand combat, even with a knife or some small weapon that most of these kids can handle…."_

 _She gave a slight nod as she considered it, "Okay, so we teach them basic self-defense… but how? When? They have jobs too, Bellamy, we can't just drop everything to take time out for this, we wouldn't last a week."_

 _He smirked, having predicted her response, "So we divide them into groups, younger kids together, older kids together, that sort of thing."_

 _She pinched her lips together, he could see the fire in her eyes, it was always there when they talked and he would be lying if he said he hadn't become slightly addicted to it. "Alright, so do it," she said with a final nod before returning to look at the bloodied leg._

 _After another second of watching her, as her golden locks fell to frame her face as she examined the gash with an unrivaled intensity, he smirked and walked out of the drop ship to tell Miller the plan was on._

A sharp pinch on the inside of his bicep immediately brought him out of his musings, looking down at the source he found a smirking princess looking back up at him, "You okay there, Blake?" He could see the mirth in her eyes, it wasn't often she caught him unaware.

"Yeah, yeah,' he replied rubbing the now tender spot with a slight grimace. She must have noticed his frown because she gave him a sly look, "Maybe you should work harder, you know, build more muscle so that next time it doesn't hurt."

His eyes shot to hers; she was baiting him, wanting a fight. He would give it to her.

"Well maybe you should learn to keep your hands off my bulging muscles, I've seen you checking them out more than once," he smirked as her cheeks reddened. But before she could return the parry Octavia but in, "Can we go now? I didn't get up this early for nothing."

As she turned and marched out of the gate, everyone followed towards the small opening in the woods not too far from camp.

Taking a few deep breaths during the walk, Bellamy admired that it was a good day, the sun was steadily climbing, the sky looked clear, and it wasn't blistering hot anymore. Not that it would matter, they would break a sweat today one way or another.

As they reached the clearing everyone set their waters down and relaxed a bit, chatting about nothing. It had almost become a tradition during the older training sessions. He was watching Octavia, Raven, and the Princess laugh together when Miller approached him.

"So we are working with the knives today again, yeah?"

Taking a sip of water he nodded, "Yeah, they're already getting better with them. I'm thinking about maybe showing them a few offensive maneuvers since they seem to be getting the hang of the blocks."

"Works for me," Miller said before calling everyone to gather around and begin explaining the drills.

It was about an hour later, they were nearly done with the drills when Bellamy decided to show them one last striking move. It combined one of their defensive blocks with a strike, it would be ideal in close combat especially if a grounder attacked and they were fast enough to get in.

Miller faced him as they worked through the steps at a slow pace. Miller began by lunging at him with the knife; Bellamy would then redirect his motion to the side, and pivot so that he could position himself behind Miller, his knife to Miller's throat.

They repeated the motions a few times before letting the kids pair off into groups to practice, first with sticks, then with the actual knives.

While they practiced Bellamy and Miller would walk around, offering advice and even repeating the steps when necessary.

As Bellamy watched Octavia and Clarke face off he was impressed. He knew both girls were ferocious and strong, but they had picked up on a lot so far and moved as though it were an actual fight. He watched as Octavia attempted the drill they were supposed to be practicing, on Clarke, though she must have sensed it because she spun to face Octavia while her momentum was being directed.

He had to admit it was slick, though he watched Octavia's knife pass too close to her shoulder and chest for his comfort.

Before they could square off again, he interrupted by clearing his throat.

Both girls turned to him, chests heaving, glistening with sweat and slightly covered by dirt; or at least Clarke was, he couldn't really take his eyes off her.

"Uh,' he stuttered before clearing his throat again, attempting to rid the unwarranted thoughts from his head, 'Clarke, it was a nice trick to avoid Octavia, though you may end up more hurt by that….she almost got you with her knife," he tried to explain, fixing her with a stern look.

She gave an exasperated sigh, "So what am I supposed to do, hm," she asked, pursing her lips as if it would prove her point.

Shaking his head and walking toward her, "I'll show you. I'm going to lunge and I want you to do the maneuver on me, and watch how I defend it."

Taking a deep breath she nodded just before he lunged. She redirected him, though as he spun he sank towards the ground and before anything else registered she felt her feet go flying from underneath her and then she was staring up at the sky.

He watched her, trying to refrain from laughing at her dumbstruck expression. "Then I would mount you and have you pinned," he explained, though in his head the image led to a much different scenario.

Clarke pulled him out of his thoughts as she stood, brushing off the leaves and dirt. He could tell she was pissed, she never liked being made to look like a fool; and though that wasn't his intention, she would undoubtedly not see it that way.

"Okay, my turn," she declared.

He gave her a curt nod, signaling she could attack when she was ready; he had his knife in his right hand, left hand open and ready to deflect her. As she lunged he pushed her to the side as she ducked towards the ground sweeping her legs out towards him. He fell flat on his back, eyes closed due to not expecting such a hard landing; the Princess was surprisingly strong, though the view when he opened his eyes was what was really shocking. The Princess had him pinned to the ground, knife a couple inches from his throat, and her lips spread in a smile full of mirth and triumph. He felt his breath catch in his throat; suddenly hyper aware of the situation and how being so close to him was causing an unusual and slightly uncomfortable sensation to run in his veins.

Before he could let the feeling go any farther he threw her over his head by bucking his hips, accidentally forgetting the knife in his hand. She landed a foot away from him on her back, and he quickly pinned her. He told himself it was to teach her a lesson, to always expect the enemy to fight back, but something in the back of his mind told him there was more to it than that.

Loud gasps and a small whimper immediately brought him back to reality as he looked down to the Princess, though the smirk was wiped clean off his face when he saw her ashen face clashing with the growing blood stain blossoming across her chest.

Unable to comprehend the situation he looked around for the cause, almost lost in what was happening, before he looked down to his own hand, finding his small pocket knife coated in the Princess' blood.

He shot up and away from her, hands in the air, trying to proclaim his innocence, though he knew that it was entirely his fault.

As soon as he was clear of her Raven and Octavia rushed to her side, asking her questions and instructions, which he couldn't hear over the roaring in his ears.

He stood silently by the side as Miller had Jasper, Monty, and the others return to the medbay to sterilize, then he turned to look at him, eyes full of questions that he definitely did not feel able or willing to answer yet, so he turned and stalked into the woods, leaving Miller, Octavia, and Raven to care for the bleeding Princess.

* * *

It was dark when he walked back in the gates, the usually chaotic camp fell quiet as he headed straight for his tent. The hours he spent in the woods having done nothing to calm him, he was tense and angry, though at himself more than anything.

 _Why do I always hurt people? I'm toxic. I'm a monster. Even when I don't want to be._ The thoughts were on a constant loop in his head as he sunk down onto his bed.

His head was cradled in his hands when he heard the flap to his tent open and thump shut.

"Where were you," Octavia demanded.

"Out."

"Yeah, I noticed. Where?" She sounded stressed, worried, concerned, and aggravated, not that he could blame her.

"Where do you think?"

She threw her hands up, groaning at his impudence, "Look, I know you're upset…" his head shot up silencing her.

"Upset?" he questioned, "No, I'm pissed and angry and god, I didn't mean to hurt her! I didn't mean for any of this to happen, Octavia! I'm just not good! Even when I try to be good I'm terrible! All I do is hurt people!" he condemned himself, "especially the ones I care for…." He trialed off, sounding utterly defeated.

He turned his head though, before he could see her gaze soften, she knew he always took things hard. Especially when he believed it to be his fault.

"Bell, it was just an accident….she's okay. She's actually been asking for you…"

"Yeah," was all he said before leaving her alone in his tent.

Two weeks. That's how long he had successfully been avoiding her. He had visited her once while they had her in the medbay.

 _She was sleeping, golden waves fanned out around her head, chest rising and falling steadily, the soft pink tinge to her cheeks. He had never seen her so peaceful before, and she was beautiful. He always knew that, though now he couldn't stop staring, at least until he saw the stitches that started at her right shoulder and went nearly across her chest._

 _The breath he hadn't realized he was holding left him in a rush._

 _He did that._

 _He caused that gash._

 _He caused those stitches._

 _He will have caused that scar._

 _He reached out and grasped the edge of the cool metal table; unsure of whether his legs could still support him in this moment._

 _The intense anger, anguish and disgust he felt towards himself were all consuming._

 _I'm a monster._

 _He thought bitterly before turning and striding out of the medbay._

That was almost a week ago though now. It was more difficult to avoid her when she was walking around camp though.

She had tried more times than he can count to try and talk to him, though he always managed to slip away last second.

 _She deserves better, they all do._

It was all he could think recently.

As everyone was slowly trickling into their tents that night, he narrowly escaped her again, dismissing their conversation with a curt "Goodnight, Clarke." He nearly ran to his tent after that, closing the flap and falling into bed right away.

He had been staring at the bottom of the tarp for only a short while until he heard the flap to his tent open, without bothering to look he spoke up "Whoever you are, your issues can wait until the morning."

His body immediately tensed as he heard the Princess's reply, "Actually it can't, Bellamy." His mind was suddenly on overdrive, he couldn't very easily make her leave his tent, and he knew she wouldn't let him.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" she asked, nothing able to mask the anger and hurt that laced her voice.

He took a deep breath and decided to sit up and face her. Looking her over he was glad to see she was looking better; she looked almost normal except for the stormy look in her eyes and deep flush in her cheeks.

He knew she'd be pissed.

"I was-" he began before she cut him off.

"Don't you dare say you weren't," she all but snarled at him, anger flaring in her eyes.

He groaned, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Because," he trailed off struggling to find the words; her arms were crossed over her chest defensively, but she looked almost desperate for an answer. Before he could think he blurted out the truth that had been haunting him for fourteen days straight, "Because I'm a monster and everyone here deserves better. You deserve better! All I do is hurt people! I mean look, look at Octavia, my mother, Jaha, Murphy, the countless grounders…and now you…." He trialed off, eyes dropping to his lap.

"I hurt everyone, but especially people I care about. I can't live with myself whenever I look at you and see your stitches."

She remained silent, looking him over.

He looked broken, defeated, and just tired of fighting.

She was silent for so long he dared to look up and meet her gaze.

She took a deep breath, "Join the club, Bellamy."

He froze, no expecting that answer.

She moved to sit on the bed beside him, side by side. It brought back the memory of the tree outside the bunker after he killed Dax.

"Bellamy, you're not a monster. God, you couldn't be farther from that. You're a savior in so many ways. You saved your sister, you have saved this camp, you've saved our people, you've saved me. Yes, I will not deny that you have killed, that you have made choices in the past that I don't agree with. But, Bell, that's in the past. You make every hard choice that comes your way, to the best of your ability. You fight for what you believe in, for what you think is right, for those you love, for all of us. You are so strong, and loyal, and I hate that you can't see all of that too. You're amazing, and I wouldn't be here without you…." She gasped for breath, hoping to hold back the emotions that were beginning to overwhelm her.

"Bell,' she whispered, letting her head fall to his shoulders, 'you're no more of a monster than I am. We've all done things that we regret; that make us feel horrible. But those moments don't define who we are, it's what we stand for, what we believe in, who we love that makes us who we are. Which is why you are the strongest, most loyal, hardworking, stubborn, genuine, trustworthy, loving, and sometimes slightly crazy person I know." She let out a slight giggle, reaching for his hand.

"I know right now you don't think you deserve this, but you do, I promise. You're so strong all of the time, it's okay to be weak sometimes. It's okay to be let go with me. It won't change how I see you." She whispered into the air around them.

He squeezed her hand tighter in his, using it as an anchor as he slowly let his anguish dissipate from his body.

Seconds passed, then minutes, they never let go of each others hand; instead they fell into a peaceful sleep, that for once was not plagued by nightmares of the past.

 **Okay, so there is the first one-shot. It may be a bit rough, but it's what I got for now. Please comment with anything, and if you have a new idea for a one-shot let me know!**

 **Thanks,**

 **S**


End file.
